


Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time

by Paycheckgurl



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas, Christmas Caroling, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Embedded Images, F/M, Found Family, M/M, Secret Santa, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28452666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paycheckgurl/pseuds/Paycheckgurl
Summary: This wasn’t exactly how they planned their Christmas going, but they were going to make the best of it.
Relationships: Gwen Cooper/Rhys Williams, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: 2020 Holiday Exchange





	Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cxptained](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxptained/gifts), [blipintiime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blipintiime/gifts).



> Written for cxptained and blipintiime (agent-Harkness on tumblr). Merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy it!!!
> 
> Thank you VioletMessages for the beta! 
> 
> Prompt: Found family: the team having to work Christmas and ending up with a pub in the middle of the night instead of going home, and Rhys gets to join them.

The first incident of the day was semi-sentient Tinsel. Jack explained it was actually a creature called a Jopxa, that it was snake-like, had skin like evergreen firs, and lacked a mouth because it absorbed its nutrients through a process similar to photosynthesis. Everyone else ignored him and continued to call it Semi-Sentient Tinsel. 

~~The Jopxa~~ The Semi-Sentient Tinsel had the unfortunate luck to fall through the rift, and get mistaken for holiday decoration at various shops around Ronald Dahl Plass. It decided to get revenge by tripping unsuspecting carolers and last minute shoppers. 

At first, very early in the morning, Jack and Ianto had been fairly confident they could handle it as a duo. Around the time it had grown more enraged and caught Jack in a lasso, they’d had to call in the whole team. 

Toshiko danced around it lightly, as it started encroaching entirely too close to her feet for comfort. Owen’s bad hand was already covered in tinsel firs. 

“Cover story?” asked Jack, as he jumped over the tinsel like it was jump rope. 

“I’m thinking faulty robotics that were meant to make them sway to holiday music, and malfunctioned,” said Ianto. 

“Great so we have a cover story for when we finally wrangle this thing - that is, assuming we ever manage to,” said Gwen. She leapt to grab some, and missed entirely. Her eyes went wide with regret as it began snaking towards her exclusively in revenge. 

One epic battle later, it was already eleven AM. 

* * *

Not fifteen minutes later, they got a call from Andy. He insisted it was “some kind of spacecraft.”

However when the team showed up, Jack looked less than impressed. “It’s a drone.”

“Like what the army uses for military strikes?” asked Gwen. 

“Nope. Well yes, but not that type. Remote controlled craft, kind of like a toy helicopter. They get really popular soon, I think around the next five years. They take video, are used in light shows, and deliver packages to places people can’t get.”

“Well if that’s all then, I think I’ll finally be getting off to share some eggnog and a cuddle with Rhys,” said Gwen. 

And that was when they spotted the drone pilot. A Sontaran. 

Gwen did not get to spend the rest of Christmas morning with Rhys. Or the Christmas afternoon. By the time they’d properly contained the little militant potato-y menace, it was well past tea time. 

It wasn’t long after that, when Kathy Swanson called with a tip about a grandmother that had been found dead with “unlikely hoof prints”' across her body, and threatened anyone that dared bring up a comparison with, as she called it, “the worst holiday song to curse this terrible Earth”. By the time they arrived on the scene, it began to set in that Christmas wasn’t going to be spent anywhere but work. 

Ianto called his sister for tidings and made a promise he probably couldn’t keep about stopping in on New Years. 

Toshiko hadn’t been able to spend the holiday with her mother, who’d been abroad in Japan visiting extended family anyway, but was growing annoyed that her time to call her had been cut into. 

Even Owen was getting antsy, and he usually just spent the holiday people-watching on the plass until he got bored and went home to watch movies. 

“Who’s turn is it to say ‘‘bloody Torchwood’, this time?” sighed Gwen as the team huddled around the autopsy bay. It was nearing ten, and the chilly December air had become more biting outside. Inside they were at a loss for where to even begin with their latest case. They were pretty sure the creature responsible was not actually one of Santa’s Reindeer, but after the tinsel in the morning, who was to say?

“Well, at least we were together,” said Toshiko hopefully. 

“Alright,” said Jack. “I’m calling it. You four, grab one of the changes of clothes that you all have stashed around here, anything vaguely holiday adjacent, and some cheer. Gwen, call Rhys and invite him to our pub in let’s say...twenty minutes? Work’s done for the night. We’re going to celebrate the rest of this holiday.”

Everyone stopped for a second, before breaking out into large smiles. That could work. 

* * *

The pub had made a token effort to be festive. There was (thankfully non-sentient) tinsel across the bar, and a small tree shoved in the corner. The team were the only people there, aside from the bartender. They weren’t on a name basis with him, but they’d seen him around before on the occasional after work unwinding session. Jack made it a point to shove a large tip in the jar before they’d even ordered their first drinks, while the rest of the team stashed the presents they’d brought from the Hub under the table they’d claimed in the middle of the space. 

The bartender quickly brought out the first round. 

“Well kids, we have exactly two hours left of Christmas, time to celebrate!” declared Jack. 

The others clinked their glasses together in cheers Owen, who had no glass, mimed the action. 

Rhys chose then to stumble in, and gave Gwen a kiss on the cheek. He was awkwardly holding what looked like a large hat box with a small collection of haphazardly wrapped gifts inside. 

“You got us presents?” asked Tosh, laughing slightly.

“Technically, I got Gwen a set of gag gifts she was supposed to give to you lot once she opened it. She never had time to open her presents, so I figured I’d cut out the middleman and just give them to you now.” 

It was a set of six matching coffee mugs with the Torchwood logo, and the words “definitely not alien hunters” printed under it.

Everyone burst out laughing.   
  


“This is a huge security risk,” Jack said, once he’d managed to collect himself, in a tone that still had a laugh to it, but also seemed to convey legitimate concern about the sanctity of Cardiff’s worst kept secret (for once). 

“I made all the vinyl stickers myself, no one’s seen what they say but me. So need to worry about your big secret getting out and giving one of your little amnesia pills to some poor bloke at the print shop. Got special paper for the home printer and cut out those stupid octagons myself and everything!” 

“That’s some precision cutting,” Toshiko admired with a beaming smile.

“Technically, they do say we’re _not_ alien hunters,” said Ianto. “‘Definitely not’ in fact. So really, plausible deniability is on our side.” 

“Oi! I can’t drink! This is discrimination!” said Owen, but his laugh betrayed the fact he was joking. 

“Lend it to Andy and watch him drink some ridiculous flavored cocoa concoction out of it, we all know you get off on that kind of thing,” Ianto laughed. 

“Maybe I will, maybe I will.” 

“Speaking of presents, I think it’s Secret Santa time,” said Tosh. She reached under the table for the present she packed. 

“You lot did a Secret Santa?” asked Rhys. 

“Gwen organized it actually,” said Tosh. 

“My wife, the office party planner,” said Rhys with an admiring smile. Gwen shot him a toothy grin back.

“Let’s see,” said Tosh. “Ianto why don’t you go first?” 

Ianto pulled out his giftee’s present, a perfect flat square, pristinely wrapped in shiny red paper, out from under the table. 

“Toshiko,” he said. “Happy Christmas!” 

Tosh smiled as she cleanly took the well wrapped paper off the present. 

“Aw, Best of Broadway Volumes One and Two.”

“It’s been awhile since we’ve had a good debate on the merits of the best musicals, and why you’re wrong about them.” He hid the smile behind his drink, and offered an audible laugh, a way of cueing Tosh into the fact his dry comment was meant in jest. She smiled in turn. 

Wedged between the two CDs was a laminated photograph Ianto had taken from behind her, atop the millennium centre. She was peacefully looking out at the city below her. Since their mission at the opera house, the two had made a point to watch the cityscape together at least once every few months, and have a rant about the goings on in their lives. Ianto had brought an old Polaroid camera up last time and thought it was worth giving Tosh the photo. He was no photographer, but he liked the mood of the picture.

  


Tosh smiled down at the photo and then at Ianto, and carefully tucked it safely back under the CD. 

Then Toshiko smiled across the table. “Here you go, Gwen!” Tosh’s gift to Gwen was in a gift bag, with neat bursts of tissue paper sticking out. 

It was an impressive looking home spa kit, including epson salts and a face mask. She’d also thrown in scented candles. 

“Oh Tosh, this is lovely!” 

“I know we’ve been talking about unwinding after work hours and not having time to go to salons or health farms with these hours. You mentioned that you love the smell of the sea breeze, lavender, and camomile, so I tracked down those scents. Oh and Evergreen, just because it seemed festive. Although after this morning...I think I, for one, have smelled enough pine firs for a lifetime.”   
  


Gwen sniffed the candles, taking in the scents. She reached over and gave Tosh a hug. “I love it sweetheart! We should do the masks together sometime, for a bit of girl time. Now, let’s see. I had Owen.” 

Gwen’s gift to Owen was in a gift bag, with untidy, wrapped rectangles on the inside. 

Owen ripped the paper off of the rectangles. 

“Season collections of _The Simpsons!”_

“You said that you were getting bored at night. I figured these would be a good way for you to pass the time.” 

There was also a season collection of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ in the mix.   
  


“Not bad, Cooper,” he said grinning widely, before moving on to grab his giftee’s presents. 

Owen’s gift to his giftee was messily wrapped in crumbled paper, and very loosely open at the ends. A sad little bow, likely liberated from the greeting card section of Tesco, had been placed on top, and fell off as soon as he moved the present. 

“Oh captain, my captain!” he teased to announce where the present was headed. 

“Gimme!” declared Jack, like the actual child he tried to pretend he wasn’t under all the immortal angst. 

Inside was a leatherbound journal. It fit Jack's particular World War II aesthetic. 

“Wow Owen, it's beautiful,” commented Tosh. “Good pick.” 

“Wait,” said Jack. “What’s inside?” 

Inside were three brochures acting as a bookmark. 

“Is this for the retirement estate down the street?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have trouble with the age limit, but you know.”   
  


Everyone laughed. Jokes at the expense of Jack’s age were pretty much a guaranteed source of comedy around the office,and served the much needed purpose of bringing Jack’s ego down a peg. 

However, when the second one was for a World War II remembrance exhibit at the British Museum, Ianto, Tosh, and Gwen shared a silent wince with each other, afraid that maybe Owen had taken the joke too far. 

“Because you’re old,” said Owen. “Or if, you know, you wanted to do that thing where you pretend to be your own father and reminisce about the good old days or whatever. It’s you know, something to do on a Saturday. And the brochure might have a free coupon in it.”

“That’s...surprisingly sweet, Owen,” said Gwen. 

Owen crossed his arms. “Who said I can’t be sweet?”

“Literally anyone that’s ever met you?” said Ianto. 

“There’s one more,” said Jack. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show Live!” 

“You named the Weevil Janet because they didn’t feel like a Brad. Figured you were a fan of that kind of thing.” 

“Wait a minute,” Gwen scowled. “That means Jack has Ianto. When I did the draw, I told you all to put your names back if you got yourself or a partner.” 

Jack shrugged. “And I ignored that bit.” 

“This means I get two presents out of him this year,” said Ianto. “I can’t exactly complain.” 

Gwen crossed her arms in defiance of the rules of the game being broken. However, her expression failed to look particularly threatening. She’d made the mistake of looking over at the raised eyebrow expression Ianto threw her, and couldn’t help but laugh in response. 

Jack slid what looked like a jewelry box across the table. Ianto eyed it curiously. They’d already done their exchange on Christmas Eve, and he hadn’t realized Jack had successfully managed to keep a second present from him. Jack usually was the sort to keep things close to his chest, but when it came to gift giving, he was terrible about not letting his tells show. Ianto wondered how he hadn’t discovered it.

He looked at the box. It was just a bit too large to be a ring box, a bit too small for something like a bracelet, and had clearly come from one of the nicer jewelers around town. He lifted the lid and found himself laughing with his whole body: inside was a sprig of mistletoe. 

Jack crossed the table at a quickened pace, grabbed hold of the mistletoe and held it over Ianto’s head. And then proceeded to snog him like no one was watching. Either that, or he was very aware that everyone was watching, and was making a good show of it for their benefit. 

After a few minutes of that, Owen cleared his throat loudly. No one was quite sure how he was able to do that without functional lungs, but it was certainly effective in terms of volume. Ianto rolled his eyes in Owen’s direction, but placed one last peck on Jack’s lips before breaking apart. 

Jack whispered something in Ianto’s ear, and placed some very small gifts, wrapped in red tissue paper, into his hand, likely the actual gift that the box had been from. 

He pulled the paper off. Jack had given Ianto two pairs of cufflinks. Both were silver in color, and everyone suspected at least one was likely real sterling. The first set had Ianto’s initials engraved, and a small tiny bit of cursive writing sprawled at the bottom Ianto chose not to share with the others, not that it stopped Gwen from rather obviously trying to read the small text from next to him — she’d probably successfully get it out of him on a gossip session later. Whatever the tiny bit of writing said, it was clear there was meaning there, as Ianto stared at it just a bit longer than necessary, and traced his fingers over the lettering. 

Ianto took one more look at the writing on the first set, and traced his fingers over the words only he’d managed to read once more: “until the end of time”. 

  
The second was both sillier, and probably the best possible gift for a man that had a Star Wars duvet shoved in his guest cupboard. They were tiny Millennium Falcons. Everyone chucked a bit, but it was clear from the look in Ianto’s eyes and his open mouthed smile, how much he appreciated them. 

Jack and Ianto shared affectionate grins across the table, and Ianto carefully placed them in the box where the mistletoe had been, for safekeeping. 

The group ordered another round, and clicked glasses, happily chatting about everything and anything. Eventually it was decided that they needed to do something else Christmas themed. 

“Carols!” said Jack, with entirely too much glee.

“You’re all drunk, you all are,” accused Owen. 

“I’ve only had water,” said Jack, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Come on. This celebration only comes once a year and is only on your planet. Have a little fun.” Jack broke out into a chorus of what was apparently his favorite carol. 

_“Good King Wenceslas looked out  
On the Feast of Stephen _  
_When the snow lay round about  
Deep and crisp and even” _

Gwen clearly didn’t know the words, but was trying anyways. Owen gave her credit for spirit, even if in her slightly buzzed state, she was even more off key than she usually would have been. Ianto had a surprisingly good voice, but it didn’t mesh well with Gwen’s off key and out of time attempts. Rhys was too busy shaking his head at how ridiculous they all were. Tosh knew more of the lyrics than Gwen, but her soft voice was practically drowned out by Jack’s overenthusiastic one. 

After a second, Owen joined in, off key and all. He felt a bit bad for the bartender having to listen to it from across the pub, but after a moment he was too lost in the fun of it. The fun of it being half of what he was singing was the phrase, “these aren’t the lyrics because no but Jack knows them!” over and over again. 

They were all slightly winded by the end of the song. 

“Okay now let’s switch to a song normal people actually know,” declared Owen. 

Somehow that ended up being “Jingle Bells”, followed pretty predictably afterwards by “Jingle Bells, Batman Smells”. There was disagreement on whether the last line was, “Joker Learned Ballet” or “Joker Got Away”. Ianto’s passionate defense of the latter involved referencing the 90s Saturday Morning cartoon, whereas Tosh argued that “Learned Ballet” better matched the humorous style of the song. Jack insisted that the lyric was “Commissioner's stuck in sleigh,” and the only agreement that could be reached on the subject was that Jack was objectively wrong. 

Before they knew it midnight approached. 

Ianto pulled out his stopwatch. “Thirty two seconds until Boxing Day,” he declared. 

“Well I could do without the work part, but I’m glad I got to do this with you losers!” Owen declared. 

“Love you too, Owen,” laughed Gwen. 

“I really did enjoy this,” said Ianto. “We should do it again next year.” 

“I can get behind that tradition,” said Jack. “Next year I’ll bring more mistletoe.” 

Ianto rolled his eyes, but then looked up at Jack indulgently. 

“We should do a countdown, at ten seconds. Like on New Years,” said Tosh. 

Ianto looked down at the stopwatch. “Ten, nine, eight, seven,” 

The others joined in with gusto. “Six, five, four, three, two, one!” 

“Happy Boxing Day!” declared Rhys with a laugh. Everyone clinked their glasses together. Jack and Ianto, and Gwen and Rhys both stole quick pecks with each other.

It was another few hours when things all calmed down. Gwen began to fall asleep against Rhys’ arm, the other side of her long black hair falling onto Ianto to her left. Tosh fiddled with the rim of her glass, tracing it absentmindedly as her own eyes seemed to droop. 

Jack smiled fondly at all of them. At some point Ianto began to drop off too, and leaned against Gwen, who’d begun lightly snoring. Jack and Owen exchanged looks, taking that as their cue to get everyone that needed sleep off to bed. Jack planted a kiss on Ianto’s forehead, and shook him awake slightly to get him moving and ready to get home in the SUV, while collecting up his and Ianto’s presents. Beside him Rhys did the same with Gwen. They cleared off the table of gifts and Jack squared away the final bit of the tab. 

As he walked out into the cold December air, Jack found himself smiling at the team once again. Tomorrow was the mystery of the grandma that got run over by a not-reindeer, but tonight had been about spending time together. Maybe it hadn’t been traditional, but it had been a very Torchwood Christmas. As the chilly Cardiff air began to nip at his ears, he took one more glance down at Ianto, and then at the rest of the team as they made their way to their separate cars. He couldn’t help but think there had been no one else he’d rather spend the holiday with. 

**Author's Note:**

> Notes:
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!! 
> 
> Image IDs
> 
> 1) Photo of a mug featuring the Torchwood “T” logo and the words “definitely not alien hunters” below it.
> 
> 2) A black and white Polaroid photograph of Toshiko Sato from behind, taken from on top of the Millennium Centre roof. 
> 
> 3) A purple lavender chamomile scented candle. 
> 
> 4) A Season Collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer S4
> 
> 5) The brochure for the Cardiff Gardens. There is a leatherbound journal sitting on the corner an open tri-fold brochure: It reads “65+ Living for the young at heart”. There is a picture of an elderly couple linking arms. Middle panel includes “contact”. There is an address: Cardiff Gardens, Cardiff, Wales. An email: info@cardiffgardens.com and a website cardiffgardens.com The third, rightmost panel is the cover. It reads “Cardiff Gardens Luxury Retirement Living” and features a picture of an apartment complex. 
> 
> 4) A cufflink with “IJ” written in cursive in the center. Below in small, cursive text are the words “until the end of time” 
> 
> Jack singing Old King Wenceslas is a reference to the Lives of Captain Jack Volume 3 audio wherein very, very, very far into the future he sings that carol every year with his companions. I figured his love for it had to have started early on Earth. 
> 
> Ianto’s Star Wars duvet he keeps for guests is mentioned in the Torchwood One audios. 
> 
> Ianto and Tosh hanging out on the opera house roof and Tosh being opinionated about musical theater comes from Dinner and a Show. As is Ianto giving her an audible clue (in the form a laugh) to when he’s joking about something. 
> 
> Owen watching/making Andy eat/drink things comes from their audio adventures together (Three Monkeys, The Hope, etc.all).


End file.
